


Love lockdown

by Gorrlaus



Category: Pentatonix
Genre: Biting, Flirting, Frottage, Jealousy, Light Dom/sub, Love Bites, M/M, Mating Bites, Possessive Behavior, Power Play, floor show, no homo yes homo, wannabe vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-03-06 14:04:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13412844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gorrlaus/pseuds/Gorrlaus
Summary: Avi sleeps around with girls, Mitch gets possessive.





	1. Chapter 1

_Let me be your ruler, you can call me Queen Bee_

_And baby I'll rule (I'll rule I'll rule I'll rule)_

_Let me live that fantasy_

—

It's not an unusual ocurrence, Mitch thinks, nursing his first coffee of the day, and it's certainly none of his business. So there is no reason why he should feel even remotely irritated right now. Or, perhaps irritated isn't the right word. It's more like...

...like...

He doesn't know what to call it.

 

Last night Avi had disappeared after the final encore, opting out of the backstage cooldown drink. He had then been AWOL until half an hour ago, when he had walked through their shared lounge sporting the same clothes as he had on yesterday, smelling of perfume and with his usually immaculate hair and beard in a telling state of disarray. Digging through a bag hunting for Advils, he'd mumbled something about a shower and then promply left again.

Mitch hadn't sassed him, nor mentioned the puffy skin under Avi's eyes, because it wasn't his business what his friends got up to after shows, and besides, everybody had done it at some point, even though Mitch and Kirst were hopelessly last in the fucking league. And besides, again, they had today off - no performance until tomorrow - so Avi had only been missed in a general sense.

If he had been missed at all. No, not that wasn’t even the case, because Scott had opened a bottle of Chardonnay and put on Hamilton, and then opened another bottle, and they had great fun singing along to the most challenging parts while being wonderfully tipsy, so it really didn’t matter that no-one knew where Avi had gone off to, and nobody cared.

It didn't matter at all.

While absently scrolling through Youtube, Mitch ponders just how straight two of his bandmates are. How they chase girls, talk in bro code and play-wrestle each other. Behaving like stereotypical red-blooded dudes. It's all so _cliché_. Lately Avi has been going out more nights than Kevin, and even more than Scott, and sometimes he comes back the day after with tired eyes and that stupid hetero ' _hey I bagged another one'-_ smile, looking like a sated tomcat.

Still, it's not Mitch's business. Let them romp around. Avi's girlfriends, and his girls of undetermined status, have not had any impact on their work, so it's not his place to voice an opinion.

Never mind how he feels about it.

_Fine._

He continues to flick through his media channels, curled up on the sofa with his laptop and phone, only briefly wondering who the girl was this time.

Some time later (possibly an hour, but who could tell when there is a whole new season of Rick & Morty to watch) Avi appears anew. This time as his usual neatly groomed self, with a new shirt on and long hair damp and extra curly from the shower. Mitch looks up from his pad. Playing with those curls is so much fun, and today they look super-bouncy.

Avi, however, does not.

"Hey. Good morning beautiful." He manages a smile, his deep sandpaper voice sending tingles up Mitch's spine.

"Hi Big Daddy. Slept well last night? Or was she a snorer?"

Mitch fires off one of his sweetest smiles, but Avi just grunts, his full attention on the coffee machine.

"....oh, that's funny Mitchie. Remind me to slap you later.” Bleary-eyed, he focuses on the display, repeatedly hitting the buttons for 'Large' and 'Strong'.

Deciding that growly Morning Avi is more interesting than watching cartoons, Mitch puts down his pad.

"Slap me? Why Daddy, you really don't respect me at all."

Avi doesn’t bother with a reply. Instead he swears under his breath as the machine starts to pour coffee into nothing, the designated mug unfortunately having been placed under the wrong tap. Moving the mug earns him a splatter of hot liquid on his hand, which results in more swearing.

” _All I need is a little r-e-s-p-e-c-t._ ” Mitch sings beatifically, in an octave usually reserved for angels. ”Aretha agrees with me. ”

Avi turns around to face him, steaming mug in hand. "Respect is earned. You respect me, I respect you. And from you – zero respect. It’s not even noon yet and you’re already sassing me..." Looking mildy annoyed, he takes a sip. "Hey, this coffee is STRONG!"

”You hit _all_ the buttons, Daddy, of course it is.”

Expression getting more alert with each sip, Avi gives Mitch a proper look-over where he sits curled up on the sofa with his gadgets.

"Is that a new hairstyle on you? Looks great, with those purple hair thingamajiggers-strands-things… ” Avi falters, getting lost in hair style terminology. ”You know, those. Goes with your nails."

Mitch is very receptive to compliments from Avi, even though they are almost never on point. He preens before he can stop himself, smooths out his bangs and cocks his head.

"Aaaw, thank yooou! It's a new coloured hair wax from Japan. Scott gave it to me. A girl can't live without texture." Avi blinks, losing interest rapidly, and Mitch decides to change subject "...speaking of texture, when will you let me play with your hair again?"

"It's not like you ever ask for permission." Avi puts on a look of stoic suffering that only partly masks his smile. "For that, or for humping me, or feeling me up, or anything. You just come at me like a multi-fingered tornado."

Mitch has a good comeback ready, about how adding more fingers makes any experience better, but then Avi turns towards the counter to refill his mug and tilts his head just so, displaying an irregular line of bites and suction marks on his neck that disappears down into his shirt collar.

Okay so last night's girl wasn't a snorer, but a sucker. Mitch quenches a nervous giggle, and he's _not_ bothered or jealous at all, except he is, maybe just a little bit. In theory, people have sex and leave marks on each other. Avi recently had sex, so _in theory_ the hickeys are not surprising. Mitch fiddles with his rings, pushes his nails into his palms until it hurts.

In theory his insides shouldn't feel like the bad kind of jell-o.

"So I see you slept with a vampire last night, kinkyyyy."

"I swear Mitch, one of these days I am actually gonna kill you and cut off your head and mount it on our studio wall as a hunting trophy." Avi growls menacingly, but Mitch can tell his heart isn't really in it.

"You say the sweetest things Daddy."

Looking at Avi's slender hands, the way they close around the mug, and it's easy to imagine how he handled the girl last night. How did he taste to her? What did he smell like? Was it the same scent Mitch chases on the pillows Avi has slept on, the one he drinks in every time they hug?

As Avi decides he needs even more of a boost, as he pours a ridicilous amount of sugar into his coffee while humming some stupid ditty, Mitch finally finds the word he's looking for.

 _Possessive_.

Okay, so yeah that’s it. So he is jealous and wants Avi for himself. Want all of his time and attention. It's not fair but that's the way it is. The few times they have cuddled up together, or had heart-to-heart talks, are not enough. Mitch wants more hugs and chaste kisses, more sleepy evenings in front of Netflix with his head on Avi's shoulder, one hand curled over Avi’s heart, and less of him running around with girls whose faces and names are ever-changing, never-changing, most of them starting out on a pedestial but always ending up as harbringers of misery and angst.

Mitch draws aimless circles on the pad, watching his finger move over the glowing surface. He can feel Avi's eyes on him, and so he pouts, just a little, in that way that always seems to derail Avi's thoughts and makes him waver on any note he might be holding.

To be honest, he wants even more than chaste cuddles. Because the real truth is -

\- sometimes Mitch wants him so bad his whole body aches, and it's a _totally_ selfish thing to want. He knows Avi loves him, as a friend, and he wouldn’t want to risk that for anything. Despite all their harmless flirting, that almost-platonic skirting around something else, Avi is still very much _not gay_ and would never – right?

If Scott was here, Scott would tell him off. _Don't create drama, don't dip your pen in office ink, don't confuse as-straight-as-they-come Mr Bass Daddy, because he's already confused enough as it is._

Sipping his coffee, Avi studies him from over the counter. "I dunno what game that is on your pad, but it can't be much fun. You look totally distracted." He smirks and Mitch's heart flutter.

Scott would tell him off.

But Scott isn't here, and won't be for another hour. Nobody is. This morning it's just the two of them.

Avi is too straight for his own good anyway.

"Hey Avi?"

" _Hey Avi_?" Parroting Mitch's last line, Avi raises an eyebrow.

"Can you get me a glass of water please Daddy?"

Avi mutters in the affirmative and picks up a somewhat clean glass from the sink. Mitch bites a purple nail; he doesn't look at the bruises on Avi's neck as his water is poured. He wants to wipe off those marks, wash Avi clean of all the others and put his own marks there instead. Reach deep inside him and smudge dirty fingerprints all over his heart, so he will always carry something of Mitch with him. Putting Avi right, whereas now he's in the wrong.

"Here's your water Mitchie."

The glass is cool and wet in his hand. Mitch takes a sip, flicks his tongue out to catch a drop on the rim, and notices with delight that Avi noticed. They know each other so well by now. Mitch can detect a ripple of interest on the composed surface, senses more than sees Avi's pupils dilate.

"It's 'Queen' to you, actually. And thank you."

Avi smiles, a lopsided warm smile that makes Mitch's insides flutter.

"You're always and forever my Queen, Queen."

"Am I really though? Seriously?"

"You are. That, or a beautiful princess." Eyes softening, Avi looks at him like he's the sun and the stars. "I'd do anything for you – hoist your skirts, pull out your chair, carry your crown...Anything."

A warm spark blossoms in Mitch's chest. Somehow Avi never looked better than he does right now, in the late morning light in a dingy lounge space with his hair curled into ringlets and bags under his eyes. He wants him so badly, just like this.

Feeling his pulse racing with a thousand beats per minute, Mitch puts on his most confident smirk.

"Is that right. Anything, _servant_?" He keeps the tone light - they're just teasing each other after all, like they always do.

"You know it, Your Highness."

Avi's eyes glitter and when he winks, something hot and dark curls in Mitch's belly. _Anything. If Scott were here. But he isn't. Anything._

Mitch's heart is pounding so hard he can't hear his own thoughts, but when he speaks his voice doesn't shake one bit:

"Then kneel before your Queen _."_


	2. Chapter 2

”Uh. What?” Avi blinks. Whatever he might have excepted Mitch’s next line to be, this clearly wasn’t it.

”You heard me.”

It’s surprising, this determination that has crept into his voice. Gesturing to a spot on the floor in front of the sofa, Mitch raises his eyebrows, daring Avi to go down on his knees, or to fail the challenge and leave the room, probably with a huff and a sarcastic line about BDSM and Mitch’ repressed libido.

Or maybe to double-dare Mitch right back.

Avi stands rooted to the spot for a heartbeat or two, a faint blush ghosting over his face as he finds his bearings. He opens his mouth, then closes it again. Mitch can practically hear the thoughts racing around inside his head:

_That is some kinky shit Mitchy._

_Kneel, whoa, what has gotten into your cute litte brain._

_Weirdo._

_I’m leaving._

Mitch raises an eyebrow expectantly, a smile playing on his lips.

_Cue Avi._

An almost undetectable tremor ripple over his shoulders and Avi stretches his back confidently, finally deciding on playing this as a joke.

”Of course, my Queen.”

And so he goes down, first on one knee, then both, slowly, to give Mitch a chance to stop it, to call off the joke. He settles on the designated spot, looks up with a smirk, hands out at his sides and palms turned up.

”Well. Here I am.”

With the way Avi’s jeans stretches over his thighs, and how his green eyes look almost translucent in the pale daylight, Mitch thinks that if it was possible to die from rapid southbound bloodrush he would drop any moment now.

 _Avi is_ _really_ _kneeling before him_.

”Well done Daddy.” He keeps it cool, tries to ignore the lightheaded feeling and the burning urge in his groin. Everything is still normal, they’re just goofing off, having a bit of fun. Avi doesn’t say anything. He waits, attentive, his gaze steady as he sizes Mitch up.

Hoping his nervousness doesn’t show on the outside, Mitch takes another sip of water. His hands are absolutely not shaking. The cold helps his frazzled mind to focus. He’s in control here. No problem.

They lock eyes, gauging each other’s mood and intentions. All Mitch has to do is to give in, let Avi up, and nothing would have happened. It would still be a normal day. They’d have lunch together, Scott will arrive, they do some rehearsals. Dinner. Avi would go out again tonight...

_No. That is not going to happen._

Avi makes as if to say something but Mitch beats him to it. When he speaks, his words sound like they come from somewhere outside his body.

“Undo your top button.”

Silence.

”...Mitch?” Avi rumbles, a sub-acoustic growl. Mitch thinks he can feel the vibrations through the floorboards and up his spine. ”Why, Mrs G, are you trying to _seduce_ me?”

” _Do it._ ”

His words probably comes off a bit strained, considering how quickly his body is heating up. He shifts his legs so to get more comfortable. Avi bites his lower lip, faint blush returning, a slight frown on his face. He has already clocked the state of Mitch. The tension between them is a live wire, sparkling with energy. This is a chicken race to the edge, and he’d be damned if he’d swerve first.

Too many seconds pass, and any moment now Avi will get up from the floor and say something cynical. Any moment. He has to. There is no way -

A tentative glance to the door, and Mitch’ heart almost stops when Avi slowly moves his hand to reach for his collar.

Then he undoes the first button of his black shirt.

Either this joke is now really elaborate and waaay too far gone, or they have both dropped head first into the Twilight Zone, because this is just too surreal. Mitch pulse is beating hard in his ears, hands sweaty around the glass of water.

Searching Mitch’ face, Avi pulls the collar so as to expose the dip between his collarbones. _There’s the double dare._ His hands are steady enough, but Mitch can see his chest rise and fall a bit quicker than normal.

“Good. Good boy.” Mitch breathes. It’s hard to mask his own rapid panting, and where did that even come from. Well too bad, Avi just gonna have to deal with it.

”Now. Undo them all.”

“Yes…Mitch.” Avi murmurs softly, and Mitch gasps at the sound of his name.

He watches as the buttons come undone, slowly, one by one, painfully aware of just how little stretch there is in his pants.

Avi hesitates on the last button, looks towards the door again, and Mitch realises that Avi probably doesn’t know that nobody will be home for another hour. In his mind someone could walk in at any moment.

”Look at me.” Mitch says, delighting in how Avi’s attention snap back to him immediately. _I’m in control here._ _You can trust me._ ”Now – the last one.”

The shirt falls open, and it’s nothing Mitch hasn’t seen before: soft hair fanning out over Avi’s pectorals, narrowing down to a trail over his stomach; wiry muscles bearing evidence of all the hours he’s spent lifting weights and Kirstie and stage equipment; but somehow Avi is a lot sexier from this angle. Something is disturbing the beautiful image though. His chest hair doesn’t quite cover a couple of faint marks just below his collarbone. So the girl wasn’t just attacking his neck then. Mitch clenches his jaw, and of course Avi notices.

The words stick in his throat, foul-tasting and useless. He spits them out. ”Was she good?”

”Yes.” It’s more a growl than a word. Avi’s eyes have gone dark with arousal or anger.

”Take it _off._ ”

The shirt is gone in the wink of an eye. More pale skin is revealed, but thankfully no more bites. Avi breathes deep and adjusts his pose; he shifts his hips in a way Mitch hasn’t seen him do before, and oh, that is why – he is hard too but can’t do anything about it. Mitch feels his face heat up with how hot that is, and his blush must have triggered something because now Avi is looking positively feral, his attention fully focused on Mitch. The whole group could walk in right now, or a dragon could fly past, and Avi probably wouldn’t even notice.

”Will you see her again?” Mitch twirls the glass casually, like he doesn’t even care what the response will be, like Avi isn’t kneeling half-naked and hard in front of him.

”No.”

Avi’s hand goes to his pants, but Mitch shakes his head.

”Nuh-uh.”

”Mitchy -”

”Be quiet.”

Avi breathes out loudly through his nose. The bulge in his pants looks uncomfortable, but he is obediently staying on his knees, hands on his thighs. Mitch overheated mind reels with the sudden realisation that there is nothing Avi wouldn’t do for him.

“Good. Spread your legs.”

He does so, much quicker to obey now, giving Mitch a perfect view of his bulge. Looking up under his brow with dark eyes, pupils blown, Avi seems ready to devour him. It's thrilling being in control. He could get used to this; all the harnessed power before him. Avi is waiting for his sign, or waiting for him to slip up and lose focus; tense like a bow string and ready to turn the tables. Gathering his thoughts, Mitch thinks about the next move. Keep him on the floor. Crawl. No, not crawl, but scoot on his knees… maybe. Or..? He can’t get his brain to work properly, all his blood being occupied elsewhere.

He doesn’t know what the tell was, but all of a sudden Avi has pounced.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg I'm succeeding in writing a proper PWP and not adding a thousand other plot lines and chapters! Yaay!
> 
> The idea for this came from the story "Harem" over at Wattpad, where Avi is a dom/sub switch, and holy moly how hot is that!


	3. Chapter 3

_I never wanted anything from you_  
_Except everything you had_  
_and what was left after that, too_

\---

 

There is no time to react before he is pushed back and toppled over. Mitch gasps as Avi easily manoeuvres him back against the armrest as if he weighed nothing. His legs must have been hoisted up at some point because now all of him is on the couch, and Avi is very much all on top, pushing his way in between Mitch’ thighs.

Spreading his legs lewdly, wantonly, he hooks Avi in, one leg over his back, wanting to get closer, and then Avi’s mouth is on his, and it’s rough and wet and amazing.

They fit perfectly together, naturally; Avi between his legs, like every other place is wrong for him, their hips and mouths lined up and Avi's hands on his waist, under his shirt, leaving a trail of electric sparkles. Mitch whines, embarrassingly needy, as his top is yanked up leaving his belly exposed.

Heat blooms in his guts and he's already aching. He groans as long fingers rake through his hair, pulling him in for another messy kiss. They are a completed circuit, joined at the hip and at the mouth; feeding off each other, their desire amplifying, rapidly escalating.  Mitch chews on Avi's bottom lip, kissing him hard enough to bruise, their teeth banging together and it’s filthy, primal, and _so good_. He moans something explicit as Avi grinds down, moving their hips together in a poor imitation of fucking, too much fabric between them. Mitch’s insides are molten heat, cock twitching in his pants and oh fuck he’s already _so wet_. Everything is electric and he wants more. He wants everything Avi has to give. 

”Baby...” Avi growls in his ear and he whines, high-pitched and needy. Too much friction. Not enough friction. _Pants_ his brain tries, _get rid of the pants_ , but his body doesn't want to let go of Avi for one second and he can't find the words. Painfully hard, he takes it out on Avi's bare back instead, scraping his nails over firm muscles, digging into soft skin. 

It's like spurring a horse.  He’s thrown flat on his back, only dimly aware of his fly being yanked open, Avi fumbling with both their flies and buttons and all other contraptions that is between them. Mitch fleetingly thinks about the nearest location of condoms and lube as his pants are swiftly pulled down, and suddenly there are only thin layers of cloth separating them, and oh, _so_ much better. The hotness rubbing up against him, the wetness, and it’s too intense, too fast. He does not want this to be over yet, doesn’t want his aching need satisfied. He grabs a handful of Avi’s long hair and pulls hard, forcing his head up and back, to get him to back off, calm down, make it last.

”Mitch….oh fuck, _Mitch_.”

The vibrations from Avi’s voice almost makes him come on the spot. Well _fuck_ , if that didn’t have the reverse effect. Avi’s biggest kink seems to be having his hair pulled, not to mention how gorgeous he looks with his head bent back, a grimace of frustration on his kiss-swollen lips, and then Avi’s dick rubs against his just right, just like that, and he moans helplessly, feeling the wave starting to crest. Before he can attempt to delay by thinking about old grannies or boogers or sport he screams and comes hard in his underwear like a horny teenager, warm wetness against his dick. A responding groan from Avi and does that mean that -

 _No!_ More, he wants more!

Avi goes limp and collapses on top of Mitch, burrowing his face in his sweaty neck.

Mitch lets out a shaky breath. _Fuck_. Coming down from bliss, his heart pounding and body shivering with aftershocks, he takes a moment to summarize. Okay, that happened. His pants are not even halfway down. They are both still in their underwear. This was not the best sex he’s ever had, but it was definitely the quickest. He didn’t even know it was possible to come this hard and fast from floor foreplay.

It's hot and sweaty and there is a warm sticky mess between them that needs addressing. He strokes Avi’s wild hair back from his own face. Avi is breathing hard against his neck, seemingly unready to face the world.  Taking the opportunity to smell his hair, without making it too obvious, Mitch wishes that this strange afterglow would last and they would never have to get up. Maybe they are married and live in the suburbs and this is a lazy Sunday before they dress their kids and go to the park. Maybe Mitch is a glamorous designer/model and Avi makes a living cutting down trees and they are naturally husband and wife and this wouldn't be awkward at all.

But the reality is that it’s a rehearsal day. It’s maybe noon. Scott will arrive, et cetera. And they will have to get up and face what they just did.

It’s not night time, so they can’t separate with the excuse to sleep and start anew next morning, and they’re neither drunk nor high enough to write this off to intoxication and poor judgement. There are really no excuses, and the daylight is mercilessly showing all the grey hairs and wrinkles and cum stains.

The most same thing would be to get up and have lunch together, but that means he has to look Avi in the eye within like 30 seconds. He’s starting to panic about the fact that Avi is probably going to panic, and _that_ is _not good_.

Avi’s breathing has gradually calmed down. He stirs to lift his head.

_Awkward moment coming up in 3...2...1..._

”So...uh, I’m not actually gay or anything” Mitch says hesitantly. ”Like, no homo bruh.”

The reaction is instant. Avi chokes up with laughter. He arf-arfs like a happy sea lion directly into Mitch’s ear, sending fizzy shivers of pleasure up his spine.

”Well. You could have fooled me.”

He raises his head to look Mitch in the eye, a wide smile on his face, and Mitch relaxes. They’re still them, and everything will be fine.

Avi quickly rubs their noses together before sneaking an arm around Mitch and rolling them onto the side, so as to let him breathe freely, but also getting a good attack angle to tickle his flanks.

”Nooo _stop_!”

Laughing, he pulls Avi’s arms around himself to avert the attack. They get tangled up in an octopus-like embrace, long hair and arms and legs everywhere.

Mitch spits out a ringlet that has attached itself to the corner of his mouth. ”I see why you bun it up, that mane is out of control.”

Avi snorts and leans in to rest their foreheads together, and so he takes the opportunity to run a hand along Avi’s scalp, lazily scratching the back of his head where his hair is thickest.

”Mmmmmm” Avi butts his head against Mitch’ like an oversized house cat, then pinches his nipple through his shirt.

”Ouch. _Daddy._ ”

To distract him from the nip pinching, Mitch presses closer to nuzzle Avi’s otter-like neck. Next to the line of foul hickeys the skin is pristine; white and smooth. He settles over a particularly appealing spot on his throat, takes a tentative lick. The responding purr goes straight through his chest and down to his crotch. Encouraged, he licks again.

”Mitch.” Avi whines, wrapping his arms around him and squeezing hard. ”Stoooop. It tickles. You’re like a dog.”

”Okay Daddy, I will stop licking you.”

Instead he mouths over the same spot, moves his lips slowly over the supple skin. Avi’s pulse is beating, steady and sure, against his lips. Re-kindled desire sparks in his gut and he bares his teeth, nips at the softness. He lets the flats of his two front teeth gently run over the spot, feels the pulse below quickening.

He bites down.

”Mitch! Ow!”

It’s not enough to break the skin, far from it, but he is definitely putting down some good teeth marks. Avi tenses up, draws in breath with a surprised hiss. Keeping his hold on Avi’s throat, Mitch sucks and licks the bit of skin caught between his teeth. He's not being shoved off, not yet, so he makes the most of it. Feeling like a hungry vampire, he presses closer, the length of their bodies touching.

To his great surprise, instead of protesting and telling him off, Avi relaxes into the bite, letting him do what he needs to do. Humming soothingly, Mitch draws more blood to the surface. He puts a hand on Avi's neck, strokes his throat slowly, feeling the muscles and sinews under the skin.  Avi’s pulse flutters beneath his lips and palm, almost as fast as his own heartbeat. His head is spinning with how vulnerable and _visible_ this spot is and that Avi is allowing him to put his mark there.

It’s intimate, and strange, and delightfully perverse.

”Mitchy.” Avi says, voice throaty and deep, like a plea or maybe an endearment, and the resulting vibrations running through his body are almost enough to make him hard again. There’s a dull throb in his groin and he wants to, oh how he wants to, but it’s too soon. Settling on making sweet love to Avi’s throat, he slowly humps Avi’s hipbone in time with his bites, going a little bit harder each time, increasing the grinding and biting, the dark coil in his belly winding tighter.

Only when a sharp intake of breath tells of his mate’s discomfort, he lets go.

Avi is staring at him with huge eyes, one hand going to the mark on his neck. ”What the heck? _You_ were the one sassing _me_ about dating vampires.”

Mitch just smirks. The spot is shiny with saliva and already a satisfactory dark red, getting more intensely burgundy with each of Avi’s staccato heartbeats. It’s _his_ mark, and the other marks are _nothing_ compared to his. It’s like they’re not even there.

”You’re _mine_. Just so you don’t forget.” he breathes, the hot embers in his belly flaring up. He puts his hand over Avi’s, over the mark. _“Never forget.”_

Avi kisses his lower lip, the corner of his mouth. ”How could I ever forget that, you little weirdo? Especially now when you chewed out half of my larynx. I’m gonna have to go dig out a polo shirt before the others get here.”

”No polo.” Mitch says absently. He strokes the mark with his thumb. The skin is hot and swollen under his touch. It’s going to take time to fade and it’s hard to hide. He gently kisses the spot. _Mine._

Avi shivers at the contact and oh, maybe Mitch went a big rough there.

”I’m sorry though, Avi…maybe I.... I think I got a bit carried away. And oh my god, your back must be scraped raw! I'm so sorry!”

”Don’t worry about it baby. It’s rock n roll.”

”Daddy?”

”Precious beautiful angel?”

”My panties have dry-fused to my crotch. We should get up.”

–

After cleaning up and changing a selection of their clothes, they drop right back onto the couch with their phones. Awkwardness be damned when there are notifications to check.

Mitch' screen lights up with a heart.

”Scott is on his way. He wants to know if we want something from Starbucks.”

”I’m fine.”

”No Daddy you want a frappuchino, I can tell.”

Avi huffs and waves his hand in the affirmative.

”Frappuchinos for me and the bear please. Make mine a vanilla soy. Thank you Scott.” He clicks off as Avi groans.

”Don’t CALL me that. I’m like 1/8th of a bear. Maybe a 1/9th.”

”Hunty, you are a _perfect_ bear. My lil’ bear.” He scoots closer and curls up against Avi’s side, tries to get inside Avi’s shirt to pull out some chest hair but is quickly batted away.

”Ow! Hey Jennifer, have you seen all the new Rick and Morty episodes? I’m up to number four. Let’s get blazed and have a marathon.”

–

When Scott barges in with the frappuchinos, Mitch lies with his head in the crook of Avi’s neck, breathing in his scent, thinking that tomorrow night Avi might be off again, and return late, and soon he might be gone forever, but right now, in this particular moment, everything is fine with the world.

 


	4. We'll play it back in slow rewind

_If I am pressed to say why I loved him, I feel that this can only be expressed by answering: "Because it was him; because it was me."_ \- Montaigne

 

\--------

 

“You and Avi WHAT??”  
  
Scott's mouth hangs open, his bowl of ice cream sitting forgotten on the counter. Mitch stares defiantly at him. Telling Scott was not a good idea. Obviously he is not a huge supporter of Mavi.

"It's none of your business, _really_."

"I _knew_ it!" In direct contrast to his initial floundering two seconds ago, Scott now confidently points a finger in Mitch' face. "I could see something was up! You looked _too_ happy when I walked in and you and Av were all curled up together!"

"Oh, the horror." Mitch mumbles, flicking a piece of lint off his Vetements shirt.

“I can’t believe it!" Scott is clearly on a roll now, moving his spoon around in the air as if he's herding invisible flies. "First he was after Kirstie, but that didn't work, and now you! So...what... who started it? It must have been you, right?”

"Like I said, none of your business!" Mitch can feel himself blushing, and he hates it. "I don't see why this is a thing. I like to kiss my friends! As you know perfectly well."

"I told you ages ago that it was a bad idea." Scott pushes his hat up over his forehead, clearly frustated that his friend is such a slut. Mitch sighs. "Oh no, that huge hickey on his neck that he refused to cover up! Was that you? Oh my God! Did you...what...How far...?"

"Scott! We just kissed!? What's wrong with you! It's not like we're together. We were just fooling about. He's _straight_."

"Yes, he's 200% straight! I don't know why he'd even. Wow. And I told you, it's not a good idea at all, Mitchie. _Seriously._ " Scott gives him his best stern look. "Don't do that shit with him."

"You're being weird." Mitch pouts. "Whatever. We're just friends and he kissed me back when I kissed him, ok? No big deal. We're totally cool now." Grabbing his wallet and keys, he pushes the ice cream bowl over to Scott as he heads for the garage. "Eat up before it melts honey. I'm going out."

"Fine. Okay." Scott hesitantly picks up his spoon and digs in.

"By the way, he isn't _that_ straight." Mitch says, slamming the door behind him.

\--

Avi sighs and sinks lower in the rickety plastic chair. The setting California sun drenches the balcony with light, effectively drowning out the display on his phone. He decides to leave it, instead picking up rolling paper and weed to keep himself occupied while Mitch is freshening up in the bathroom.

Today has been a long but fruitful shopping trip. The green metal shades with gold details currently sitting on Avi’s nose is not something he would have picked out for himself, but Mitch had insisted, said they matched his eyes, and hey, what don’t you do for lov - for your best friends.

Or no, yes, love.

Lighting up, he takes a deep drag to quieten the thoughts swarming in his head. The day had been eventful. One moment in particular stands out.

It had happened outside one of the incredibly cool menswear shops Mitch wanted to visit, a shop he himself wouldn’t have dared to even approach ten years ago, much less enter. Mitch had taken his arm like it was the most natural thing in the world, and they'd walked into the shop like that. It felt wonderful. It felt even better later on (after Mitch had tried on twenty garments and bought two) when they were walking down the street, Avi carrying the shopping bags, when Mitch suddenly draped himself on his arm again. He felt like the king of the world, proud that someone so wonderful would want to be seen with him like that. As if they were a couple.

His phone chimes. It's somewhat possible to read the display if he puts the phone in the shade under the table top. Scrolling through the notifications, he blows sweet smoke through his nose, welcoming the relaxing buzz. Mitch would probably want some of this too, but then he’ll just have to hurry back from the bathroom now won’t he. Whatever he’s doing in there.

Taking another selfishly log drag, he scrolls through the most recent messages. There’s a couple he immediately swipes left on:

 _I know it was just a one off thing but I can’t stop thinking about you -_  
_Any change you’re free -_  
_Call me -_

Delete, delete, delete. Wait, not that one. His brother in Israel has sent a picture of their new puppy. That one is a keeper.

The setting sun warms his right side, while his left is getting colder. The mark on his neck tingles as the late afternoon rays hit it. Avi lightly rubs the spot, as he’s done a lot lately. The bruise looked awful for days but now it’s almost gone. It has served its intended purpose well, or what he suspects the purpose was: it has kept him from hooking up. He couldn’t really explain a mark like that without sounding like a total subslut. Mitch had been acting more confidently with every evening Avi had stayed in, looking smug and accomplished enough that Avi wanted to slap him, or maybe kiss him, push him up against a wall and -

It was weird, what they did. He doesn’t understand it. Didn’t think Mitch would take it that far. Didn’t think he himself would go along with it, Mitch being his friend, bandmate and, at least on paper, a _man_. But eventually they had ended up on top of each other, Mitch somehow knowing exactly what buttons to push to spur him on, both of them coming all over and inside their underwear before they even had time to get naked.

Then, the bite. That had been SO weird. When Mitch sunk his teeth into Avi's neck he had yelped with surprise and pain, but it had only taken a moment to adjust, breathing through the discomfort. His entire world had shrunk down to that small spot on his throat, the pain not really painful anymore, sparkly tingles running along his spine and down to his crotch. Mitch had licked, sucked, increased the pressure until every other sensation had been drowned out. The discomfort hadn’t mattered, because Mitch got pleasure from it, judging by his renewed humping and grinding, and so Avi didn't mind, had liked it even.

Which was a disturbing thought in itself.

The balcony door is pushed wide open and there he is, bathrobed and lovely. Looking like a million dollars, Mitch sweeps closer; a cold spell as he blocks the sun in passing, two dewy beer bottles in one hand and an opener in the other.

“All freshened up! I was sooo sweaty all over, it was disgusting. Don’t know how you do that jacket in this weather and still look crisp.”

He fires off one of his amazing smiles and Avi has no time to arrange his face into something less adoring. He smiles right back, probably looking like a lovestruck teen but it’s only the two of them anyway and Mitch already knows everything. No point in pretending.

“I think we need refreshments after all that shopping. We put in some real effort, yay us!” The plastic chair creaks even under Mitch' featherweight as he sits down, plonking his phone, the bottles and the opener down on the table.

“Three pairs of shades in three different stores. Why'd you even need more than one pair - you only got one nose.”

Mitch rolls his eyes so hard its almost audible. “In the same way you have eight black leather jackets and four million lumberjack shirts Big Daddy.”

"They're not _eight_ , they're...five. Ish."

"They're eight!"

“Duuh. Well. I guess I can use these as a headband.” Avi pushes his designer shades up on his head. He fires off a Hollywood smile and winks.

Mitch gasps.

“What?”

“Your eyes. Wow.”

Oh, right. The sun is sinking in the sky and the light hits his face at a low angle.

Used to the effect his irises have on people in light conditions like this, Avi comically widens his eyes and braves looking almost straight into the sun to give Mitch a proper view. Just once it’d be nice if someone said ‘you’re so tall and statuesque. A real warrior type” but hey, size isn’t everything, and he can work with “your eyes are pretty”. Never mind all his other physical flaws.

"Some day I'll do a story when you do that with your eyes."

"I hate Instagram. Too many pictures." He grabs one of the deliciously cold bottles. “Thank you, hawntey.”

“You’re welcome Daddy. Come to think of it, I didn’t need to bring the opener because you’re gonna take out a hunting knife, or just growl at the cap and - HEY! WHAT?? NO!”

Mitch screams as Avi puts the capped end against his eye and pretends to open it.

“Psssht. Eye socket opener.”

“I hate you.” Mitch makes a sour face and sticks his tongue out.

“That is the most macho way though.”

“No, that would be the foreskin.”

“Eye socket for me then.” He thinks about opening the bottle against the edge of the table but Mitch wouldn’t be impressed with that after the eye socket talk and so he skips macho-ing the bottle altogether and grabs the opener instead. Popping both caps off, he gives one to Mitch.

“Ever the gentleman.”

They clink bottles, take a few mouthfuls.

Mitch’s phone chimes, a ring tone Avi can’t place but it was probably released two days ago and is currently topping the German underground trance singles list. The phone’s plastic body vibrates loudly against the table top. Mitch reaches out with a long-fingered hand, gives it a look, then swipes the caller away.

“Sorry. I’m gonna mute it.”

"It's too bright out here anyway." Avi mumbles. Suddenly and inexplicably ill at ease, he pretends to study the view. The hills are a pale blue-green, rolling over the landscape down towards the coast. Mitch sips his beer in silence.

The joint lies forgotten and half-smoked between them. Avi picks it up, reaches for the lighter. "Hey, would you like -"

The phone buzzes angrily, furious to be put on mute. Mitch glares and swipes left.

Avi swallows, anxiety rising quietly but steadily in his throat. "I guess someone really wants to talk to you."

"Yeah well they can wait!"

Okay, good. He goes for the lighter again. "So would you -"

"I'd love some - "

Their hands collide over the lighter. Mitch laughs and quickly weaves their fingers together, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Oooh Avi, we’re so fucking in luuurve.”

It's in jest, of course, and he _knows_ this, but his stomach drops anyway. He's been in love with Mitch since they met, in every sense but one. The most recent development showed some promise in that last field too. But Mitch is clearly not in love with him. Why would he be. And not that Avi would _want_ that, even. His plan is to sleep his way through California and to find The One eventually; family home, three kids, dogs, yadda yadda... So it's not very practical this; Mitch being his dream woman, when he’s not even a woman. He would only be a deep and emotional cul-de-sac; another mistake.

So why is the thought of _not_ being with Mitch suddenly so unbearable?

It's confusing. He needs to get away, re-focus, clear his head. Call one of the girls maybe.

Pulling his hand back, he avoids meeting his friend's eyes.

“Have it. I should be going anyway.” His tone is clipped and hollow and not very pleasant, and he can sense Mitch' own anxiety rising. _Perfect psycho couple._ "Me and my new cool shades got places to be." _  
_

The slender hand over his own is unexpected. "Wait."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing jealous and protective Scott! He would be so sweet if he ever tried to be stern XD


	5. Chapter 5

‘Sorry.” Mitch says, both hands now resting awkwardly over Avi’s, as if he wants to grab hold but doesn’t quite dare to. “Please stay. I didn’t mean…It was dumb. A stupid joke.”  
  
Making a face - _yeah yeah stupid joke_ -, Avi settles back into the chair. It’s not like he can contribute much to this Chilling-On-the-Balcony-with-Beers-evening Mitch has set up, because his angst isn’t going anywhere, but the Queen had said _please stay_ and so he does.  
  
Smiling nervously, Mitch gives his hand a grateful squeeze.

“Yay sweetie. The evening is still young, and so are we.”  
  
“It’s just that - I am _actually_ in l-lurb - lob - lurve with you. Fuck.” he babbles, wondering where his ability to form English words has fucked off to and why he had to stutter on that particular word in this particular situation. His clammy paw is gripping Mitch’ delicate hand as if he’s drowning,  his chest cracked open with anxiety. It’s only stating what they both already know, so why is this suddenly a _thing_?  
  
Far away there’s a rumbling of approaching thunder. Dark clouds are gathering over the mountains.  Mitch’ expression is unreadable, his eyes almost amber in the sunset light.  
  
“Oh Avi.”  
  
“Seriously though, I really am. And I don’t know what to do with that.”  
  
He swallows around the lump that has formed in his throat. He’s being too straight-forward and serious. Not what this moment calls for. Putting the thing into words is too much - dumping his feelings into Mitch’ lap while simultaneously rubbing them in his face. He should have shut up before he even started blabbing on about this.  
  
_“You’re too intense.”_ Scott had said. _“It’s the Aries. You always go in 110%….you gotta learn to see when people aren’t interested.”_  
  
Mitch doesn’t seem upset though. He bites his lower lip while thoughtfully studying Avi’s face, their hands still tangled up together, bony fingers forming a perfect fit.  
  
“Yeah. These lurve things can be hard to figure out.”  
  
“Yeah.”  Avi manages a weak smile, turning over the words Mitch just said, and the words he didn’t say, in his head. The darkness in his chest swells; it’s clawing and ripping at his insides but he’s absolutely not gonna start crying. That would not help things at all. Mitch would get rattled and he’s not sure he would be able to stop.  
  
Determined not to become a snotty snivelling wreck, he finds his serious voice again. “Sorry I’m being weird. I’m doing a lot of figurin’ these days.”  
  
“We all are, hunty. And you’re not being weird.” Mitch gives his hand a final comforting squeeze before letting go. “Besides, nobody knows what they’re doing. Or what they want.” His grin is quick, infectious; it lights a warm flame in Avi’s chest. “I think we’re doing all right so far though. With our assorted mental conditions, constant touring and non-steady boy-, girl-, and fluid-friends. Not to mention our plentiful STD-tests.”  
  
Avi snorts with laughter, gives the forgotten joint a nod. “And heavy drug use.”  
  
“You know that Mommy needs her drugs to function. I shall give this another go, before I get the shivers.”  
  
Watching Mitch smoke is always a treat. Avi tries not to stare like a pervert as Mitch tilts his head back and lets ringlets of smoke rise into the chilly evening air. Blue-grey veils swirl and dissolve around his form. In the twilight the white cotton bathrobe looks for all the world like a mink coat or a dinner jacket tailored from the finest silk, something more worthy a Queen.    
  
“It looks like rain over there.” Mitch nods towards the horizon, displaying his regal profile while graciously moving the focus even further away from Avi’s little covered up freak-out. “Better have a plan B to move indoors soon if it’s coming this way.”  
  
“Yup.”  
  
Taking a calming sip of beer, Avi watches as Mitch creates a couple of wobbly smoke rings. The sheer beauty of the scene before him makes his throat dry and his heart ache. It’s a constant wonder how other people can even function around this perfect human being, when presented with his brilliant smile, intelligence, kindness and wit - how others can talk to Mitch and treat him like he’s ordinary, while Avi is slightly floored by his presence every time he smiles, or walks into a room, or does much of anything really.  
  
Mitch leans his head to one side, such a stupidly perfect move, and Avi’s body is acting up again, but this time not from anxiety. More evidence that the wires in his head are seriously crossed. He sinks lower in the chair, making sure his crotch is well covered by the table top from Mitch’ point of view. This - embarrassment - will pass soon, it usually does. To distract his pervy cock from the rather innocent scene of Mitchypoo enjoy a smoke, he grabs his phone and starts scrolling.  
  
For a little while, his solo love life might have taken a turn for the gay. Just to see if there was something there. But the porn he had watched had been…not exactly revolting, no, but alien. Not that homosexuality was an unfamiliar topic, considering his many gay friends. It was just strange and unappealing to see it being played out - too much bulk and/or body hair and every scene having at least one dick too many. The only clip that had sparked his interest was of a young guy - a so-called “twink” - who had borne a fleeting resemblance to Mitch and who had moaned like a girl.  
  
Then again, the twink wasn’t Mitch. And that had been that. Avi was still straight, the future unchanging and safe.  
  
Three new messages on his phone. Things are looking up for tonight. A bed is waiting for him close to here, only a few miles away. He could be there in twenty minutes. Sink into welcoming arms, forget all about this _thing_. So easy. His thumbs move quickly over the display. _B there in half an hr_  
  
“Busy bee.”  
  
Their eyes meet across the table. Mitch looks indifferent as he strokes purple bangs behind an ear, something dark behind his blank expression.  
  
“Um. Yeah. Busy.”  
  
“Busy here, busy there. Busy _everywhere._ ”  
  
Mitch bites his lower lip, keeping his gaze steadily on Avi, not judging or condemning, no, but just looking. It’s like he’s suddenly transparent and Mitch can see right into his brain. He’s aware that his breath comes in quicker, deeper. Mitch’s eyes are almost black in the fading light. Several seconds pass, and Avi wonders how this can be so fucking intense when they aren’t really doing anything at all.  
  
The faded bruise on his neck tingles. This is unsafe ground to walk on.  
  
He should be off, really, shouldn’t linger here because it’s weird again. Not _weird_ -weird, he’s as safe and secure in Mitch’ gaze as he’s ever been, but internally weird. His body has decided on what it wants to do this evening, and it’s not the hot girl with the killer body waiting for him 20 minutes away.  
   
“So.” “If you want some before I finish this, _maybe_ you can have some.” Mitch’ smile is positively impish as he breaks Avi’s train of thought, serving his best _I’m an annoying brat_ -face.

“ _Maybe_ I can have some?” He snorts, distracted from the idea that he should be leaving, and from the fact that his phone just lit up from an incoming message. “Madam, ’twas _I_ that brought the goods here today.”

“You certainly brought them Daddy.” A wink, and Avi’s insides make a somersault. He almost misses the quick but withering look Mitch gives his phone. It goes back to dark under the evil stare, its message unread.

“I’ll gladly share it with you but….”  Mitch tosses his hair back in a move that would make a stripper jealous. “ - YOU have to COME over here and GET IT.”  

Avi almost can’t hear the words over the siren song filling his ears, over how Mitch’s eyes glitter, winking at him like a lighthouse perched on the rocks he’s about to wreck himself on.  

“Sure thing.” he says mechanically. The rickety legs of his chair scrapes loudly over the uneven floor as he scoots around the table. Somewhere far away the thunder rolls. Mitch’ skin looks dewy and smooth to the touch. He feels weirdly light-headed as he pulls up close, so close that their knees knock together.  
  
No one else has this effect on him. No girl, no woman. No one.  
  
 Mitch is still, his eyes half-lidded, lips parted around the joint, doesn’t make his move until Avi has settled.  
  
“All right then. Here you go Daddy.”

  
Then Mitch takes a deep drag and leans forward, and, closing his eyes, lets the blue-grey smoke slowly seep out from between his lips.

_Okay._

It’s scary how easy it is to give in, to abandon the pre-tense of buddies sharing beers; scary how quickly his veins are flooded with fizzy pop.  
  
Holding on to the table for support, Avi leans in. It might be some spell or trance working it’s magic, because he doesn’t feel quite attached to his body anymore, or his brain. He goes to meet the smoke as it folds out of the other’s mouth, leaning in to catch it all. Sweetness blooms as the chemicals hit his brain. It’s otherworldly. Like a dream. Somehow they have moved closer together, because Mitch’ bottom lip is softy brushing against his, barely touching, his breath warm and moist. Trying to find a better balance, he puts his hands on Mitch’ knees. The responding gasp sends tendrils of arousal curling up his spine.  

The smoke has dissipated and the joint is forgotten. They hold still, breathe each other’s breath like some weird symbiotic creature; unmovable objects that are helplessly drawn into each other’s orbit. Mitch’ lips are warm and soft against his. The world is breathing calmly with them, in, out, everything that moves has slowed down.  

It’s like he’s floating above the balcony. He thinks about honey, viscose and golden, slowly dripping and undulating.  The evening chill is long gone; his body is heating up, breath heavy and heart beating against his ribs. It’s stupid how he aches with how much he wants this, what this even is. There are words stuck in his throat but he doesn’t dare vocalise them, afraid of what will come spilling out if he does.

A warm hand finds his, spindly fingers weave into his own again and somehow they cross the line from no-kiss to yes-kiss, so he doesn’t have to think about anything anymore. Time stops as Mitch strokes his hair, thumb slowly moving over the nape of his neck. He puts his hands on Mitch’ waist and pulls him closer. A rustle of cloth, and suddenly there’s a weight in his lap.

He opens his eyes and sees Mitch in close-up. “Hey.” He says, almost shyly, eyes half-closed and lips red. “I thought I’d come over.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! I really made Avi completely gaga over Mitch in this one! No difference from canon then :D


	6. Chapter 6

_I'm not loving you, way I wanted to_  
_I can't keep my cool, so I keep it true_  
_I got something to lose, so I gotta move_  
  
_I can't keep myself, and still keep you too_

 ----------------

 

He kisses Mitch properly then. It’s easy, it just happens. Memories from their last time together drown out the voice in his head protesting that he isn’t gay, that Mitch doesn’t really love him back, that he should stop making a fool of himself. All critical thoughts are overridden by the softness of his Queen’s hair, the slight prickle of stubble, velvet lips, sharp teeth. Mitch is melting into him, moaning and whimpering as he grabs at Avi’s hair, and ow, beard too, his bathrobe almost falling open as he slowly grinds his hips against the roughness of Avi’s jeans.

Focusing on giving Mitch the best kiss he’s ever had in his life, it takes Avi a couple of seconds to register the strange pressure on the side of his neck. His body automatically inhales, sudden and sharp, when he realises what it is.

Mitch is pinching the exact spot on his neck where the mark was.

It doesn’t take more than that to drop down in some mindset that, until Mitch asked him to get down on his knees, he didn’t know he had access to. His body runs hot and cold, desire hitting like a sledgehammer. It’s too much. Groaning into Mitch’ mouth, he attempts to lean away from the pinch but the hold is firm. It’s like Mitch is holding him by the balls, or by his soul. He is only using two fingers, yet Avi feels like a deer in headlights, helplessly sinking out of control. It’s a surprising and not entirely pleasant feeling.

“Shhh sweetie. You’re not going anywhere tonight. You’re going to stay here with me.”

The whispered words have him reeling, making him nod along almost by reflex. Of course. How could being anywhere else even be an option?

The pressure lets up and is replaced by soft lips. Mitch' voice is hoarse as he nuzzles and mouths at the spot.

“I lurb you. I lob you. I lurve you, Avriel. And all the variations thereof. I can’t bear seeing you with others. I know this is wrong. I know I’m confusing you, keeping you from the life you want to live. But I just. Can’t. Fucking. Stand. It.”

“Ah?” Avi says intelligently as his throat is kissed and nibbled. He’s trying not to think about how his hard on is attempting to break through his jeans, his brain buzzing with the effort of processing what Mitch just said. “I - only - oh - ever want you to be - ah - happy.”

Fuck, someone’s too good at this. All of Avi’s nerve endings have moved to his neck, being worked into overdrive by talented touches and kisses. Mitch seems to be into this vampire-thing, so maybe that’s something he’d enjoy too? He gives Mitch’ neck an experimental pinch.

The effect is immediate. Mitch whines and grinds down in his lap, pressing hard on his erection. “Fuck, yes Daddy, bite me!”

 _Well then._ Lifting him up and plonking him down again at a better angle, Avi mentally rolls up his sleeves. He nuzzles into the crook of Mitch’ neck, beard tickling the sensitive skin there. Running his teeth over a pulse point makes for an interesting, and loud, vocal response. By now the other residents must be wondering what’s going on and if someone saw them it would look really gay. Like properly dicks-out-gay.

Fuck it. If anyone takes issue he’ll fight them. Mitch wants to be bitten, and so Avi will bite him. Deciding on a good spot on the slope between neck and shoulder, he bares his teeth and gives a tentative nip.

Mitch almost screams.

Yanking the bathrobe down over his shoulders reveals vast expanses of pale skin. Spoiled for choice, Avi gives a little nip again, and again, creating a row of pink marks just under a collarbone. Mitch is definitely loving this; he arches into the bites, head falling back while grabbing onto Avi for dear life.

Mitch weighs about as much as a feather these days, so it’s easy tipping him backwards to get better access. Avi finds a good spot just under his Adam’s apple. Working the skin pink, then red, he delights in the vibrations from the sounds his mate is making, only faltering in his task when hard fingers press against the old bite on his own throat.

“I want what I gave you.” Mitch pants, one hand on Avi’s neck and the other tangled up in his hair. “Mark me.”

Avi’s dick twitches at the words, and yes, yes he can do that. He _wants_ to do that. The voice in his head protests, but he can’t hear a word it’s saying. Mitch tilts his head, offering up a long line of neck to help him find the right spot.

It’s a new feeling, the pressure of soft but unyielding skin against his front teeth and canines. Biting down gently at first, he slowly eases more pressure, settling on firm but not drawing-blood-emergency-ward-paperwork-firm. Mitch draws in a shuddering breath and digs his nails into Avi's back, hissing and moaning.

Letting go to check on things, he is almost frightened by the other's wild expression. Mitch' hooded eyes have gone black and he's breathing hard, almost snarling, perfect teeth showing blue in the evening light.

“Good?” Avi breathes before he’s hauled back in by his beard and okay, _good_. Their fingers dig trenches in each others’ skin as Avi chews and sucks at the spot. He bites down again as Mitch moans things like YESYES and FUCK and HARDER.

"Harder? You sure?"

A needy whine and vigorous nodding. Avi smiles, running his tongue over his teeth as he tilts Mitch' head to the side. "Cover your mouth baby, or you'll alert the neighbours."

Settling on a good angle, he closes his jaws over the spot. Mitch gives a muffled scream, his body trembling, arching up as Avi goes full-on vampire.

It doesn't last long, because he wants to avoid causing any permanent damage, and even though Mitch obviously likes a bit of pain this must really hurt. Once Avi's sure he made a decent mark he lets go, licking the spot carefully for any taste of blood. The mark looks like something out of a horror movie but at least there are no breaks in the skin. He gives it a few extra licks to clean it up, just in case.

"All good Mitchie?"

Putting their foreheads together, Mitch breathes hard, his shaking hands framing Avi's face. "Oh, Avriel... Yes!"

“You took that so well. Good boy.” He murmurs, making his voice as deep and alluring as possible.

“Oh _Daddy!_ ”

Apparently Mitch likes to be called ‘boy’ - likes it a lot in fact. Avi files that information away as he is pushed back, Mitch pulling up his shirt to attack his chest and belly.

While this is certainly not the first time someone has raked their fingers through his chest hair, it’s the first time _Mitch_ has ever done it; the first time his bony, graceful hand has followed the trail down over Avi's stomach. His Queen. _Mitch._ Avi moans, embarrassingly needy. It's hard staying in control under the onslaught. A dom-top losing it like a blushing virgin. Mitch' warm, wet mouth on his nipple is driving all coherent thoughts from his head. The firm pressure of teeth behind velvet lips is a reminder, a possibility of something else that has him reeling, instinctively jerking his hips, and oh - _oh_ -

“Fuck -“

Running his hands through Mitch' hair, he is wordlessly asking for something he doesn’t know what it is.

_Release. Take this into the bedroom. Take it somewhere. Do something. I’m yours. Always yours._

Mitch’ breath is warm against his throat. “Now you. Yes?”

“Yes.” he rumbles, not really sure what the question was. He can almost hear his life derailing, switching to another track as his head is gently tilted to one side and the neckline of his shirt pulled down.

He doesn’t recognise the sound he makes when Mitch finally bites his neck. A decidedly unmanly high-pitched mewl, a cry of pain and relief as he is bitten in exactly the same spot as last time. It hurts, _fuck_ it hurts, but it’s mostly a good hurt that goes straight to his dick.

Held fast by one hand firmly tangled in his hair and Mitch' weight in his lap, Avi tries to remember how to breathe. His entire body is buzzing with adrenaline as Mitch darkens and deepens the bite. The ache is cleansing. Everything's coming undone, being taken apart and moulded into something new. He’s harder than he’s been in his whole life, but his dick doesn’t even matter anymore. Through the haze of pain he seeks out the swollen spot on Mitch’ neck, pinches it in a mirrored version of what went on earlier.

For a few seconds they are fused together as one, giving and taking, blood rushing through broken capillaries as red-hot energy flows between their bodies, aching, soothing, two parts turned into a whole.

Then, Mitch lets up, his pupils blown and with a predatory grin on his lips.

"Holy moly. Mitchie." Avi whispers. Flying high on endorphins and adrenaline and weed, he feels boneless, as if he's just come. Nothing makes sense until Mitch anchors him with a kiss that is only slightly tinted with copper.

With their mouths clashing together and pain and arousal coursing through his system, it takes a moment to register the cold drops splattering down on his head. Water is running down his face in tiny rivulets. Mitch is pulling away. It seems like they are half-way to drenched, and it’s raining, and probably has been for a while.

Mitch giggles and pinches his ear.

“It’s pouring down Daddy!”

“Well duuh.” Avi says, pretending he noticed long ago, and pulls Mitch back in.

A flash of light and a loud bang from the heavens. They both flinch.

“We should go in, Big Daddy. It could be dangerous.”

Trying to dodge the raindrops, they quickly gather their things - phones, lighter, green stylish shades - and rush for the door.

“Jeez, that some Cali weather right there for ya.” Avi says with admiration just after he shut the sliding door with a bang, and just before he’s manhandled up against the glass. Laughing, he loosens the fastening on Mitch’ bathrobe, runs his cold hand against a warm stomach and takes a few seconds to enjoy the predictable screaming before peeling the bathrobe off Mitch’s shoulders, leaving him deliciously half-naked.

Mitch’ phone buzzes.

Avi sweeps Mitch flush against him and kisses him Hollywood-style, Mitch’ mostly naked body melting against his. His mark smarts and throbs as Mitch runs his thumb over it, something dark and wanton in his eyes.

Buzz, buzz, buzz, goes the phone.

The tension creeping into Mitch’ body is palpable. “Oh wait, that’s the…”

_Buzz, buzz, buzz._

Avi huffs. “Ignore it.”

Mitch has stilled. He's glancing over to the offending apparatus with a disbelieving frown and lips pressed together. It’s that look that says whatever is happening around him isn’t up to the expectations of what Mitch _wants_ to be happening. The phone buzzes away, unperturbed by the withering death stare it’s being subject to.

Someone is _not_ taking a hint.

“Sorry Daddy, I…I better see what’s up. Maybe it’s an emergency”

He moves away, the evening chill sweeping in to take his place. Avi shivers in his wet clothes. He hasn’t noticed how cold it’s gotten.

“It’s Scott.” Mitch crinkles his pretty brow, and Avi is just about to ask if it’s bad news, when:

“He’s wondering where I am and what I’m doing”.

“What? Why?”

“He’s, well. He’s protective, Scott is.”

Avi snorts dismissively. Typical Scott to appear in some form and disturb his and Mitchy's evening before they could reach a conclusion. He grumpily adjust himself in his pants.  “I thought you told him you were going shopping with me…Did he forget?”

Something is off but he can’t place it. Mitch looks uncomfortable for some reason. Face pinched, he quickly types in a message, presumably telling Scott they’re together, that Mitch is as safe and looked after as he can be, and that he should stop calling. Wait, but Mitch did tell him they were going out, he said so earlier. So why..?

“What the hell? Is he calling _because_ you're with me? I'm gonna fucking -  SCOTT!!” He can't stop the loud roar rolling up from his chest. What's wrong with that gangly albino motherfucker! Avi would be perfect for Mitch, really! He’d be better than Scott at least! Feeling his hackles rise, he clenches his hands into fists. Fucking -

“AVI. STOP.”

Mitch’ hand on his arm immediately dials down the anger about eight notches. He shudders, takes a deep breath.

“You shoulda switched it off!” He hisses, still angry.

“Yeah you better yell!” Mitch doesn’t even look at him, busy thumbing away at his phone.

“I’m not yelli- !” he yells, then catches himself. “Right, everybody calm down! Easy now! Okay. So I just don’t get what Scott’s getting at.”

"He wants me to date non-slutty gay boys. He thinks you're sleeping around too much and is too straight. He thinks I'm distracting you, stringing you along, confusing you for the sake of my own dark desires."

"Oh...right. That."

It’s funny, less than three minutes ago they were up against the balcony door, almost ready to move to the bedroom, but now stark reality has scrubbed away all traces of three minutes ago.

Well, not all of them. The deep bruise on Avi’s neck throbs. They are sporting matching bite marks, like perverse wedding rings, put there to commemorate what could have been if life had given them a different set of cards. Because Scott's right. Mitch doesn't really love him back, and besides his angel Queen deserves a man who is secure in his sexuality, someone not on a constant lookout for Miss Perfect to start a family with.

Except that is not the issue here. Or is it? He tries to think but fails to come up with something coherent.

“You don’t have to mark me to keep me.” he says wistfully when Mitch finally puts his phone down. Dejected, he ignores the lump in his throat, deciding that now is not the time for crying either. “I’ll always be close to you. And you will be as far away from me as you want to be. I do know what Scott’s getting at…I think. He wants to protect you, and he’s right. You and I, we wouldn’t lead to anything but sad things.”

Mitch just looks at him, then pretends to picks his nose in contempt.

“You mean because you think you’re straight and I’m gay and you’re not really my type and Scott’s jealous and I can’t give you children or be accepted by your conservative family that you love so much and if we sleep together you will notice for real I don’t have boobs but hairy pits, and you don’t really go for that - ”

\- a pause to inspect an invisible booger -

“ - and the fact that you’re Christian-Jewish and I’m secular-Italian and I want to be exclusive and you think tattoos are dumb and the fact that we have the same anxiety issues and would spiral down into an echo chamber of low self-esteem and self-hate and eventually kill ourselves in a suicide pact?”

Avi blinks. “Yeah. That, and the fact that you’re a cat person and I’m a dog person.”

Laughing, Mitch flicks the booger that never was towards his face. Being a good sport, Avi dodges it. “You know what? I just told Scotty to stop worrying, and stop calling. Because I meant what I said. When I see you with others my mouth feels like it’s full of wolf’s teeth. And I realise I want to be the others. You’re a handful sometimes but the truth is - I’m happiest when I'm with you. And that counts for something. So.”

“Oh.” Avi says, swallowing down a protest along the lines of _what do you mean I’m a handful_ , “So?”

“So I’m gonna go to the bathroom to make myself representable. And when I come out, I want you to still be here.” The pink blush spreading over his cheeks looks good on him, of course it does. “So we can go out for dinner. And talk about stuff.”

“Okay. Sounds good.” Avi says, almost crying again. “I’ll be here when you are done, so, in about three hours.”

“God you’re dumb, Big Daddy Lumberjack. Lucky for you that you’re pretty.”

Mitch slams the bathroom door shut just as his phone buzzes anew.

Incoming call - Scott’s smiling mug on the screen. Avi picks up the phone.

“Scotty. Yeah, he’s here - huh? No. Tell you what. I’m gonna hang up on you now. Mitch and I are just about to start fucking. He’s gonna ride me hard all night and put me up wet.”

As Scott loudly draws in breath at the other end, Avi ends the call and shuts the phone off. Basking in a warm feeling of accomplishment and spite, he then puts his own phone on mute. The mark on his neck tingles as he turns toward the sound of Mitch' laugher in the bathroom.

It might work out or it might not. There will be problems. Scott might be right. But tonight, and tomorrow, and the day after that, he’s gonna try to be the best man he can for Mitch.

Boob-lessness and hairy pits be damned.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess poor Avi had to get a tetanus shot after this evening! I imagine this being set in 2016 when Mitch had his long Emo bangs and Avi's beard had grown long enough to be grab-friendly... good times!


End file.
